


I Do

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Wedding Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Scott and Isaac's wedding day, and they're both, to put it lightly, a little nervous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Onthecyberseas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onthecyberseas/gifts).



            “Dude – stop _fidgeting_.”  Stiles has done a stellar job of not sounding annoyed with Scott today, but his patience is starting to wear even thinner than his dad’s hair – which isn’t nearly as luxurious as it was fifteen years ago.

            Scott looks at his best friend cum stepbrother with annoyance and then readjusts his bowtie for the seventieth time since he put it on an hour ago.  “’M not fidgeting.”

            “Take it from someone who knows, Scott – you are.  And you need to stop or you’re gonna wet yourself or pass out before you even get to the altar.”  Stiles smiles apologetically at the camera man, trying to take groomsmen pictures in the church’s rear yard – a perfectly nice place surrounded by Bradford pear trees in full bloom, and there’s a breeze that’s ruffling them just enough to where they dazzle.  Still, Scott doesn’t feel nearly as serene as the picture around him and he doesn’t think anyone’s ever had as bad of a case of wedding jitters as he has – unless you count the Sheriff’s and his mom’s wedding the year he graduated college; Scott had been nervous enough for both of them.

            Stiles places a calming hand in the middle of Scott’s back and makes him hold still, and Scott tries to shy away from him.  “Dude, I’m fine.”

            “Says he who looks like he’s got a snake in his pants.”  Stiles can’t help the lewd wink that follows that statement and Scott frowns at him.

            “Shut up.  It’s not like you were any better on _your_ wedding day.”  Scott remembers it like it was yesterday – Stiles had fainted dead away at the altar when he’d seen Lydia processing down the aisle towards him; that was three years ago and Scott knows that Lydia _still_ hasn’t let him live it down.

            “Yeah, and I’ve had a while to rethink how I could have done better, and as your best man I refuse to let you go in that sanctuary shaking like a leaf.”  Stiles turns him towards the camera, one good shot of them is taken where Scott at least looks semi-radiant, and then their photographer gives up because seriously, this shouldn’t have taken this long.  Stiles makes a mental note to slip him an extra fifty dollars for his trouble – any other time and Scott would have been the perfect model. 

            Scott freezes as Stiles starts to move him towards the interior of the church.  “I need another minute, Stiles.”  Scott can feel his bile raising for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes and he has to swallow hard to quell the urge to blow chunks.

            “We don’t really have another minute.”  Stiles checks his phone and Scott needs to be at the altar in five minutes.  He shoots a text to the pianist telling him they may be another couple minutes just in case.

            Scott draws a deep, deep breath and closes his eyes.  “Just a quick walk, through the trees?”  Scott McCall, nearly thirty years old and as capable as anyone at whatever he sets his mind to, and he still gets that puppy dog look in his eyes when he feels like he’s asking for something that could be very easily said “no” to.  Stiles, of course, has been absolutely powerless against it for a long time now; it works just as well on Scott’s wedding day as it did when they were in middle school.

            Stiles rolls his eyes out of habit and leads the way towards the cobblestone path leading towards the pack of the property.  “C’mon.”

            Everyone else is already in the church, ready and waiting but Scott just… he can’t go in yet.  He walks aimlessly for a minute, and then stops in the middle of the path.  “You know, I didn’t think it would ever actually happen, you know, in a place like this.”  Scott’s gaze tilts upwards towards the trees, the sun winking in and out behind a particularly long branch.  Stiles comes to a stop beside him, hands in his pockets and his short hair combed as artfully as he’d cared to make it.  “What do you mean?”

            “In a church, I mean.  Maybe in a courthouse or the back yard at Mom’s house, but never… never here.”

            “How come?,” Stiles asks quietly.

            Scott gives an extremely helpful shrug. “Never was big on the whole church thing.  I remember being baptized when I was five but... after that, Mom and I never really went.”

            “Do you think Abuela Delgado would let you get away with anything other than a church wedding though?”  Abuela Delgado - eighty tough and hard won years old - was the only person that Stiles had ever been more terrified of than Derek Hale – and that’s saying something, but he wasn’t going to take the business end of a rolling pin lightly, either.  Then again, it hadn’t taken long for Stiles to figure out where Scott had obtained his empathy from, Melissa notwithstanding.

            Scott laughs, a hearty chuckle that Stiles is beyond relieved to hear.  “I guess not, strict Catholicism and all.”

            “What surprises me is that she’s okay with you marrying a dude – but it has to be in a church?”  Stiles follows as Scott starts to walk down the path a little further.

            “Yeah, you’ll have to ask her about that one.  Maybe after a couple glasses of champagne – her English improves with alcohol, and so do her jokes.”

            “Dirty ones?”

            “Well, they’re in Spanish part of the time but you’ll comprehend enough.”  Scott flashes a dimpled grin and Stiles puts his arm around his shoulders.

            “And don’t you think it’s time that maybe you go and make sure she’s not searching for us?  Because I’d like to not get the blame of holding you up.”

            “Gee, thanks for looking out for me.”  Scott sticks his tongue out at Scott but there’s not a bit of serious malice behind it.

            “I do what I can, Scotty.”  Stiles’ expression turns sympathetic.  “And listen, no matter what happens up there…”

            “I know, Stiles.”  Scott hugs him tight around the neck and steps back.  “I’m ready.”

___

            “Isaac, come on, you look fine.”  Derek’s done his absolute best today to be supportive but honest to God, this day’s done a marvelous job of adding a couple more grey hairs to his temples – mostly because of his charge.  Well, maybe charge isn’t the right word, but Derek was designated the task of taking care of Isaac today a week ago – and he can’t say as though it’s been the most enjoyable job.

            Right now, Isaac’s in the bathroom of the pastor’s office, probably throwing up again.  Derek can’t quite believe that he’s able to do it again, given that the guy’s not eaten or drank anything since breakfast this morning; the steaks that they’d gone out for at lunch had set Isaac even more on edge and Derek’s not quite able to piece together why – it’s not like he was wearing a tuxedo at the time.  Is Isaac a messy eater?  Derek doesn’t think so, at least not to the best of his memory.

            “I look like crap.”  Derek hears the flush of the toilet and then the sink running, followed by thirty full seconds of the sound of nothing but water cascading over porcelain before he hears the sound of Isaac’s dress shoes making their way back to the door.  Isaac steps out, paler than usual but that’s really all Derek can tell is amiss.

            Derek looks him up and down, just to make sure that Isaac’s phantom appearance insecurity might be somewhat validated by an errant string on his tux or a cufflink that’s lost its stone. Satisfied that nothing’s really the matter and it’s just Isaac’s nerves, he places his hands on Isaac’s shoulders.  “I don’t see anything wrong.”

            Isaac swallows, tastes the bitterness of stomach acid, and then goes for the nearly depleted box of meants on the desk.  “My hair it’s,,, not right.”

            Derek looks up at the carefully arrayed mass of curls that adorn Isaac’s head.  “I don’t see anything.”

            “They’re too,.. I don’t know, stiff or something.  Scott likes them loose.”

            “Then make them loose.”  Derek seriously doesn’t see the problem here.

            Isaac whines, and then steps over to the mirror.  “He’s not gonna say I do if I look like this, Derek.”

            “Scott would say ‘I do’ to you if you had snakes coming out of your ears and a giant pimple on your forehead.”  Derek checks his phone and hell, it’s nearly time to take him to the sanctuary – in addition to his keeping Isaac sane today, he also gets to walk him down the aisle.  It’s probably weird, but it’s not exactly like Isaac has family to do it.  Ah well, at least there’ll be booze afterwards, and Braeden’s bound to have a cold beer waiting for him as soon as they get to the reception area.

            Isaac starts to check his face for acne, just in case.  “You really think so?”

            “Yeah, I do.”  Derek pulls Isaac away from the mirror and holds his forearms.  “He’s into you Isaac, obviously enough to the point where he wants to do… this.”  Derek gestures around at the church like the word “marriage” is some awful taboo and if he says it the curse will descend upon him and his house for the next thousand years.

            Isaac takes a shuddery breath and readjusts his sleeves.  “It’s happening, isn’t it?”

            “Yeah, it is.”  Derek’s proud and happy for both of them – even if he refuses to actually let it be known.  “And the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get to the fun stuff.”

            Isaac’s pensive look brightens a little.  “We’re already good at the fun stuff though.”

            “And guess what?  It’s probably gonna get better.  Spending a lifetime together, and all that.”  Derek does allow himself a very, very tiny smile then and Isaac returns it tenfold.

            “You know, this whole time, you haven’t actually said the word ‘marriage.’  You scared or something Derek?”

            “No!”  Derek recovers quickly and backs away, pulling out scowl #44 and starting towards the door.  “Come on, we need to get moving.”

            “You are though – you’re afraid to say the word marriage.”  Isaac finds all of a sudden that he’s not feeling nearly as queasy as he was a few minutes ago. “What, does the thought of commitment terrify you?  Make you wet the bed?  Bet Braeden finds that _really_ sexy, bro.” 

            Derek heads out the door, bearing Isaac’s teasing if it will get him to the sanctuary faster.  “I don’t pee in the bed, Isaac.  Not when I’m in it by myself, or when there’s someone else, either.”

            “I don’t believe you.”

            “I don’t!”

            “Sure.”

            “Isaac, I swear, if you weren’t about to marry Scott-“  Derek stops in his tracks, realizing what he’s just said and if Isaac didn’t know better he’d swear he’d just seen Derek Hale turn beet red.  “We’re here.”  The ushers at the sanctuary doors are fighting to keep smiles off their faces as they swing them aside, revealing a fully packed house.

            Derek takes up position just inside and offers Isaac his arm.  “This discussion isn’t over,” Isaac whispers.  “But I’ll consider dropping it since you are walking me down the aisle, and this image _has_ to be priceless.”

            “Shut up, or I’ll let Abuela Delgado take you instead.”

            Isaac stops making fun of Derek then.

            Some threats you don’t just take lightly.

___

            Stiles leans over as soon as the doors open and Derek and Isaac start to make their way to the altar, just in case Scott needs something.  “You good, bro?”

            Scott’s too focused on Isaac’s face to reply right away, and when he does his voice comes out a little choked up.  “Yeah, uh, I’m fine.”

            “You sure?”  Stiles can’t help the beaming grin that splits his face – damn Scott’s infectious, sunshine self.

            “ _Positive_ , Stiles – now will you stop worrying so I can, you know, do what we’re here for?”

            Stiles figures he has to let him go some time, and hey – you don’t get to see your best friend married that often.

            “Fine – but I get first toast.”

            “Deal.”


End file.
